Treading Water

by Marie Force

  He spilled the contents on the bed and froze when he realized he was looking at every card he’d ever given Clare—Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, birthdays, anniversaries, and all the silly notes he’d written her over the years.

  Staring at the pile on the bed, he felt like he’d been gut punched. He opened one card, a Valentine, dated 1994, in which he’d written, “I love you today, I’ll love you tomorrow, I’ll love you forever.”

  The magnitude of the loss roared through him as if it had only just happened. He sat on the floor next to the bed as the sharp pain of it assailed him all over again. He heard the phone ring and knew it would be Andi but couldn’t make himself move to get it. Only the sound of the phone ringing a second time jogged him out of his stupor. It was after ten, and he realized he’d been sitting there for almost an hour.

  He reached for the phone. “Hello.”

  “Jack? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Can I talk to you in the morning?”

  “You’re scaring me. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’ll call you in the morning.”

  “All right. I love—”

  Clicking off the phone, he lay awake all night next to the pile of paper on the other side of the bed. He knew Andi would be worried about him but couldn’t bring himself to call her back. Not yet. He just couldn’t believe Clare had kept everything, and the sheer size of the pile on the bed said volumes about the years they’d spent loving each other so completely.

  He studied the small mountain of paper Clare had saved and let his thoughts wander again to the night he met her on Block Island.

  Chapter 18

  Jack waited for her while she finished at work and then walked with her down the stairs from the National Hotel’s porch.

  She called good night to her coworkers on the way out. A few seemed concerned when they saw her leaving with a customer, but she just smiled and waved.

  Jack had always envied the camaraderie he saw among the young people who worked in the island’s tourist industry. They lived in places that pulsed with music, teemed with people, were cluttered with laundry hanging off decks and had bikes lying on lawns. It’d always seemed like the ideal way to spend a summer.

  “Do you live in the employee housing?” Jack asked Clare.

  “Hell no.” She laughed as they walked along the waterfront, which was still crowded even after the bars closed. “I did that the first three years, and it was really fun. Then I grew up a bit, and the idea of spending another summer living like that lost its appeal. I rent a place with a college friend. She works at Aldo’s.”

  “Where’d you go to school?”

  “UConn. I grew up in Hartford, and a lot of my friends went there. They have a good education program. I know it’s not Harvard, but I liked it.”

  “Am I ever going to hear the end of that?”

  “Probably not,” she said with a saucy grin. “A friend is having a party on the beach tonight. Want to go?”

  Not wanting to appear too eager, Jack pondered the offer. “Is he your boyfriend?”

  “Are you fishing?”

  “Maybe,” he said, amazed at how easy it was to talk to her.

  “No, he’s not my boyfriend and neither is anyone else. I haven’t been too lucky in that department.”

  “I can’t believe that.”

  “Believe it. What about you? Where’s your girlfriend?”

  “Going to school full time and working for Neil has left me with just enough time to eat and sleep a few hours a day. What girl wants to be around that?”

  “Oh, come on, a handsome Harvard boy like you must have all the girlfriends he can handle,” she said, giggling at his playful scowl.

  He shook his head with regret even as he delighted in the compliment. “I never should’ve told you that.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have. So do you want to come to the party?”

  They stopped walking. She seemed tiny and almost vulnerable despite her sassiness, and he couldn’t believe how drawn he was to her after just meeting her. “I’ll go if you behave and not tell everyone I went to Harvard.”

  “Wow, that’s a tall order,” she said with a twinkle in her eye as she rubbed her chin. “Not sure I can do that.”

  He folded his arms and contemplated the impish look on her face. “Well, I need assurances or all bets are off.”

  “If you’re going to be a total pain about it, I’ll keep your pedigree a secret.”

  He laughed to himself, thinking that she didn’t know the half of his pedigree. He’d be in for it when she found out about his father’s banks.

  They arrived at the beach where the party was in full swing with a raging bonfire and two kegs of beer in ice buckets on the sand—just the kind of party Jack used to watch from a distance when he was with his family. His father had never approved of the partying the summer kids did every chance they got.

  Clare greeted her friends and introduced Jack. She got them beers before they walked down to the water’s edge, ducking around a glow-in-the-dark Frisbee football game. People called out greetings to her as they walked along.

  “Do you know everyone here, or does it just seem like it?” Jack asked.

  “Not everyone. I’ve been out here for years with some of them. There’s a group that works here in the summer and in Vail during ski season.”

  “That sounds so cool.”

  “You think so? I only come back every year because the money’s great. I make more out here in three months than I do all year teaching.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yup, it’s an awesome gig. My mother freaks every year when I tell her I’m coming back. But I love it. Even though we work really hard, we have a lot of fun, too.”

  He looked around at the party going strong at damned near two in the morning. “I can see what you mean. I always wanted to do this,” he said, gesturing to the party. “But my old man wouldn’t hear of it. When I was old enough to work, I had to go with him during the week, and then we came back out on the weekends.”

  The spark of interest in her eyes told him he’d said too much.

  “Your family spent summers out here?”

  “Uh-huh. So where in Hartford did you live?”

  “No, you don’t. Back up. Do you still have a place out here?”

  “Maybe,” he said with a sheepish grin.

  “Oh, this is going to be good.” She tossed her head back and laughed. “How bad is it?”

  “Pretty bad.” When he looked down into those magnificent blue eyes and leaned in to kiss her, he felt the connection go through him like an electrical current. The smell of sand and rotting seaweed would always remind him of that moment.

  He felt her hand encircle the back of his neck, and they kissed for a long moment as the water lapped at their feet and the party went on around them.

  She pulled away after a minute. “That’s one way to change the subject.”

  He laughed. “Did it work?”

  “Not on your life, buddy. Now spill it.” She put her hands on her hips and crooked that eyebrow at him again.

  “Haven Hill,” he said, bracing for her reaction.

  A look of disbelief crossed her expressive face. “No way.”

  He smiled.

  “I love that house. I’ve always wondered what it’s like inside.”

  “You can see it whenever you want to.” He ran a finger along her cheek and drew her into another kiss.

  “I’m off tomorrow,” she said. “We can go to the beach or something if you want.”

  “I want to. I really want to.”

  He walked her home that night and every night all week. They went to the beach and to Haven Hill, grabbed meals at odd hours between her shifts and hung out with some of her friends at other parties. And they talked about everything. He’d never told anyone how much his father’s rejection had hurt him, but one night while he held her on the sofa in her tiny apartment, he told her about it. Of course,
she handed out some major abuse when he mentioned the estate where he’d grown up in Greenwich.

  He heard about her happy middle-class upbringing with a younger brother and sister in Hartford. She shared with him the agony of losing her beloved father to cancer during her senior year of college. They talked late into one night about what they wanted out of life and who their friends were. And on the last night before he went back to Boston, Clare called in sick to work, and they took a picnic out to the bluffs to watch the sunset.

  The family’s longtime Block Island chef provided caviar, lobster salad, fresh-baked croissants, white wine, and chocolate-covered strawberries for dessert.

  “I think you’re trying to impress me,” Clare said as they polished off the picnic. She gave him the impish look he’d grown to love during the week they’d spent together.

  He smiled and took another sip of his wine. “Is it working?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. You know, I love that smile of yours. You could’ve skipped the lobster if you were going to look at me like that.”

  He took her wineglass, and set it down next to his in the sand. Pulling her to him, he rained kisses over her face and down her neck, whispering, “Let me know when you’re impressed, okay?”

  She giggled. “Not quite there yet.”

  They rolled in the sand, kissing again, more seriously this time. After a few intense minutes, he pulled away, sat up, ran his hands through his hair, and took a deep breath.

  “Jack? What is it?” She put an arm around him. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, honey.” He realized he had upset her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. It’s just I feel so much for you so soon. It’s caught me off guard.”

  “I feel the same things,” she said with a wide-eyed expression. “I can’t imagine you leaving here tomorrow and having to figure out what to do with myself without you. How crazy is that? I just met you a week ago.”

  “It is crazy, but I’ve been looking for you everywhere, and now here you are.” He held her close as the sun set in brilliant pinks and oranges, and he felt a peace come over him that he’d never known before. Looking into her amazing eyes, he had no doubt she was the one for him. “I love you, Clare. I’ve never said that to anyone before, and I mean it. I don’t ever want to be without you again.”

  “I love you, too. I can’t believe it, but it’s true.”

  He kissed her with a kind of passion he hadn’t known he was capable of, and there on the bluffs at sunset, he made love with her for the first time.

  They were married six months later. She left her job in Mystic to live with him in Boston, where they’d had a great apartment on Beacon Hill. He remembered how happy they’d been during those first years together. While he put in long hours for Neil, she worked part time for the city’s school system until they were expecting Jill, and Jack insisted she take it easy.

  The estate she’d admired from afar on Block Island became her summer home. She and the girls moved out there as soon as school got out each summer, and Jack commuted back and forth on weekends. Clare didn’t work again until Maggie went to first grade, when she began a successful new career in real estate. By then they’d settled in Rhode Island, and he was busy getting HBA established with Jamie. They adored their girls and spent countless hours at dance recitals and soccer games as the girls and their friends grew up.

  Until the months before the accident, he’d never known a moment of discontent with her, which had made losing her so agonizing. As the sun peeked through the drapes, he forced himself to get up and put the pile of paper back in the envelope. He was unable to bring himself to look at anything other than the one card he’d opened the night before. When he was done, he tucked the envelope away in his own closet.

  That’s when it hit him that today was their twentieth anniversary. Staggered anew by the realization, he sagged against the door frame and had to summon the will to finish the job he’d begun the night before.

  Moving fast, he finished going through the rest of her clothes, cleaned out her dresser and her half of their bathroom. Suddenly, it was critical to have it all gone. When everything was in boxes, he took them to a corner of the attic until they were stacked together, Clare’s life reduced to a group of boxes under the dusty eaves of the house he’d built for her.

  He went back to the bedroom, shutting the door to the now empty closet and the dresser drawers he’d left open in his haste. Changing into warm running clothes, he left the house a minute later to run on the beach. He needed to move, to sweat, to flee from the fresh pain of an old wound reopening.

  When he’d run the length of the deserted beach, he turned back, breathing hard and sweating. One of Kate’s favorite songs, “Sand and Water,” came on his iPod as he watched the gulls dive for fish in the frigid surf. He slowed his pace and tuned into the song’s haunting refrain about how we come into this world alone and leave alone. Despite all the people and love in his life, in that moment Jack felt utterly and completely alone.

  As he listened to the song’s final notes, he realized he’d stopped in front of Clare’s condo. He stood there, breathing hard for a long time, until he looked up to find Sally watching him from the window.

  She waved to him, gesturing him inside.

  He walked up the beach and over the dunes.

  Chapter 19

  Sally met him at the door. “You’re out early today, Jack. Are you all right?”

  Nodding, he wiped the sweat off his face.

  “Is everything okay with the girls?”

  “Yeah, they’re on the cruise with Clare’s mother.”

  “Oh, good. Anna was here before they left, and she was excited about the trip.” Sally led him into the kitchen where she had brewed a fresh pot of coffee. She poured him a cup and studied him. “You want to talk about it?”

  Surprised that she’d seen right through him, he looked down at his coffee. “I was packing up some things last night, some things of Clare’s. It was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I don’t know what I was expecting, but…”

  “I’m sure it was very difficult for you, Jack. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now but you’ve probably taken another step in your recovery. One of the key stages of grief is acceptance.”

  “Is that what I’m doing? Accepting all this?” He gestured angrily at the condo.

  “I don’t know. Are you?”

  “Well, my girlfriend and her son are moving here from Chicago to live with me, so I guess I am.” When he saw that he’d failed to shock the older woman, he set down the mug, feeling ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

  “You must love her very much to make that kind of commitment to her.”

  “I do,” he whispered, all the fight draining out of him. He sat down hard on one of the kitchen chairs, and held his head between his hands.

  Sally sat next to him.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I have no idea what’s wrong with me. I’m thrilled to have Andi and Eric coming.”

  Sally squeezed his shoulder. “Please don’t apologize to me. I’m glad I was here when you needed a friendly ear.”

  “Clare and I were married twenty years ago today.”

  “It’s all piling up on you, isn’t it?” She paused. “Want my take?”

  He nodded. “Please.”

  “You’re about to take a big step forward with Andi by making room for her in your home and your heart. You’re leaving Clare behind—much more so than you have already.”

  “I never wanted to leave Clare behind.”

  “I know.” She rested a hand on top of his. “But it’s probably time, don’t you think?”

  “I guess so. I’m sorry to show up here in this condition.”

  “I told you not to apologize to me,” she said in her stern mother’s voice.

  He gave her a weak smile as he got up. “I’d like to spend some time with Clare, if that’s all right.”

  “Of course. Take your time.”

&nbs
p; He went into Clare’s room and sat in the chair next to her bed, thinking about the stack of cards she’d saved and wondering once again what could’ve happened to drive her away from him in the months before the accident. As he stared at the diminished woman in the hospital bed, hundreds of memories from twenty years flooded him, culminating with her standing in front of a speeding car. He still couldn’t believe the Clare he’d known and loved would do such a thing, and even after all this time he couldn’t accept that she’d done it on purpose.

  “I like to think you can hear me,” he whispered. Rising, he bent over the bedrail to press a kiss to her forehead. “Twenty years ago today was one of the best days of my life. Happy anniversary, Clare. I love you.” Overcome by a flood of happier memories, he stood by her bed for a long time, brushing his fingers through her hair, before he turned to leave the room.

  On the way out, he thanked Sally again.

  “I hope it all works out for you and your Andi,” she said as she saw him out the door.

  He reached out to squeeze her hand. “Thanks.”

  The refrain from the song he had listened to earlier ran through his head during the short jog home, reminding him that, despite the painful loss, he had every reason to be thankful for the life he had now.

  Between the awful scene with her mother and the odd conversation with Jack, Andi had tossed and turned all night. At four in the morning, she finally got up, knowing it was pointless to try to sleep until she was sure he was okay. She’d never heard him sound that way before, and she knew something was very wrong.

  By seven she couldn’t wait another minute to talk to him but got the answering machine at home and voice mail on his cell phone. His voice on the message made her yearn for him while she waited to hear from him.

  She was thinking about calling the airlines by the time he rang her cell phone at nine. “Jack? Are you all right? I’ve been so worried.”

  “I’m sorry, hon.”

  “What’s wrong?”